


Communication D-D-Difficulties

by reddies_eggos1711



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Fucking Stutter, M/M, Pennywise is tho, Richie's parents aren't assholes like everyone else makes them out to be, Stenbrough, he can go fuck himself, he is always an ass, i will cry now, not by much, they're like 15, this is crap like usual, why you gotta ruin things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 08:49:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15069551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddies_eggos1711/pseuds/reddies_eggos1711
Summary: Bill couldn’t help the stutters that flooded his heart when he saw who had intruded his dreary day moping.Stanley Uris.With his notebook and pencil in hand, and his eyes to the trees looking for birds, the boy had yet to notice his devastated friend. There was something about the way he studied the trees for life, the way he stood alert but comfortable, that made Bill jolt within his skin. Bill made little effort to be noticed. He would actually prefer not to have his heart explode in front of him for seeing Stan smile at him. But it looked like he didn’t get a choice.“Hey, Bill!”...Bill's stutter always has its way of ruining a moment. Just his luck. Not to mention how much worse it became once the curly-haired angel took his breath away.





	Communication D-D-Difficulties

**Author's Note:**

> I can't fucking write for shit.  
> You don't even have to like this just...don't steal it and I'll be fine.  
> Thanks

Today was just one of those days. The weather was an all too familiar steady downpour, spitting streams of water into the sewage systems. It was on days like these when Bill was filled with terrible reminiscences of that day three years ago. It was on days like these that Bill was reminded that he was an only child, confirmed in the sewers just under two years ago. It was on days like these that Bill went out in his undersized slicker and grey galoshes and treaded gloomily in the rainwater, alongside a poorly crafted paper boat scripted with his brother’s name.

The rain today was only so slow. Bill tagged slightly behind SS Georgie as it was carried down the gutters, weaving in and out, sailing over driveway hitches. It tossed and turned through the streets, slowly becoming drenched in the light rain. As Bill swerved around some asshole’s car who had parked too far off the curb, he noticed the boat nearing the dreaded drain. With his hands shoved in his pockets and his head bowing low, Bill watched in silent agony as the small paper boat fluttered down the sewer drain. The same drain that had captured Georgie’s boat years earlier. With a sigh, Bill stared down into the eerie darkness that the stench-ridden demon habitat created. He was half expecting the yellow eyes that tormented his nightmares to be staring back at him, with hunger and the longing for fear. Instead, it was just the black emptiness that had stolen his brother.

Bill couldn’t recall how long he had been standing there, staring into the passageway of treachery and bad memories, but when he snapped out of his trance the rain had come to a halt and the sun shone irritatingly in his eyes. And footsteps. There were slow quiet footsteps. Bill turned at lightning speed, at the risk of getting whiplash to see who it was. Bill couldn’t help the stutters that flooded his heart when he saw who had intruded his dreary day moping. 

Stanley Uris. 

With his notebook and pencil in hand, and his eyes to the trees looking for birds, the boy had yet to notice his devastated friend. There was something about the way he studied the trees for life, the way he stood alert but comfortable, that made Bill jolt within his skin. Stan looked back to his notebook briefly before continuing his walk down the slowly-drying street. He seemed a little too happy today. It wasn’t normal to see him this positive. He was humming as he walked along the opposite side of the road to Bill. Bill made little effort to be noticed. He would actually prefer not to have his heart explode in front of him for seeing Stan smile at him. But it looked like he didn’t get a choice. 

“Hey, Bill!” Came the strangely chirpy call of the noodle-haired boy, as he trotted over to the boy in the too-small raincoat. Bill looked to his feet, trying to hide the tears tracks that slid down his face. Stanley was immediately alert to this, much to Bill’s dismay. “Are you okay?” The tone of Stan’s voice grew immediately worried. Bill didn’t look up. He watched as Stan’s feet shuffled closer to his, before Bill was suddenly aware of the boy’s cold fingers pressed to his chin. Stan tilted Bill’s head back up so he was staring into his eyes. Exposing himself. “Are you crying? Bill, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Bill sniffled and tried to look away, but Stan’s firm hand held his face still. Attempting to remain stubborn, Bill directed his eyes away from the brown ones before him and shook his head microscopically. He knew that there was no chance that Stan bought his lies.

“We both know that there no way I believe that even for a second.” There was a look caught somewhere between panic and betrayal on Stan’s face and Bill despised it. He hated to hurt Stan. In fact, he didn’t know why he was lying at all. They had all been through the same things. They could all relate. Yet, somehow, Bill felt like the weaker one in times like these. He brought his shaking hands together fiddling anxiously over nothing. Stan watched this motive, removing his fingers from Bill’s chin and guiding them to his hands. He gripped onto them tightly, trying to steady them from shaking. 

Bill breathed out a slow sigh. “The wea-weather… G-G-G-Geor-Georg-”

“Georgie?” Stan finished for the distraught boy, his tone understanding and comforting. Stanley didn’t say anything else. Instead, he brought his arms around Bill in a tight hug, ignoring his neatly-pressed clothes which were gathering up the remains of the wet rain on Bill’s raincoat. In the comfort of his friend’s arms, Bill found himself sobbing again, unfortunately into Stan’s nice shirt, not that Stan minded.

They didn’t remain in that embrace for long. Long enough for one of the eleventh-grade boys from their school to ride past calling them ‘fags’, but not long enough for Bill to be satisfied with. When Stanley released him, he decided it best to change the subject immediately. 

“So, are you still good for the sleepover at Richie’s tonight? I hear it’s going to be ‘totally tubular’,” Stan joked, nudging Bill lightly in the side. Bill wracked a small grin and nodded his head. 

“Wouldn’t want to m-miss another n-night of Richie and Eddie ob-obliviously pining after ea-each other now, would I?” Bill crossed his arms over his chest as he spoke. He felt his heart warm when Stan chuckled light-heartedly. 

“You know, I heard that Richie’s parents bought him some new VHSs. So, tonight could either go one of two ways: Richie’s way, where we end up watching ‘Silence of the Lambs’. Or Eddie’s way, where he chickens out and makes us all watch ‘My Girl’ or some crap.”

Bill felt the pressure and weight of his worries slowly lift, as Stan spoke in a strangely humorous way. He wasn’t usually this positive, but Bill didn’t mind and he sure as hell wasn’t asking him to stop. Bill laughed. “I d-don’t know which o-one I would prefer hon-honestly. A sappy dr-drama film, or a horror f-film with Richie scr-screaming like a girl the whole t-time.”

“I hope Mike is allowed to come. He’s the only one rational enough to put up with our arguing efficiently. Hey, do you want me to walk you home?”

The question caught Bill off guard. “What?”

“Do you want me to walk you home? Keep you company?” Stan repeated and Bill was sure he was hallucinating or potentially crazy when his heart leapt out of his chest.

“It’s fine. You kn-know my house is r-right around the corn-corner.”

“Yeah, so it won’t take me long. Come on, let’s get you home, young lady, before your father finds out you’ve been sneaking off with boys.” Bill watched as Stan’s face dropped into a drastic ‘cringe’ expression at the words spilling from his lips.

“Oh god, Stanley. You’ve be-been spending too m-much time around Rich-Richie lately.”

All he received was a groan in response. 

…

“Billiam! What the fuck have I told you about ringing the doorbell! Mi casa es tu casa! You can just walk the fuck in!” Was how Bill was greeted when he rung the Toziers’ doorbell. 

“Well, ex-excuse me for actually wa-wanting to use my man-manners, you asshole!” Was how he responded, chucking a punch at on the host’s arm. Richie merely smirked, and poked his tongue out. 

“Everyone else is here, except Ben, whose picking up snacks on the way,” Richie informed him before pointing him to the living room.

On his way down the hall, Bill ran into Maggie and Wentworth Tozier, to which he had been on a first name basis with since fifth grade. 

“Good evening, M-Maggie, Wentwo-worth. Thanks for letting us st-stay over tonight,” Bill smiled, stopping in the hall to greet them.

“Oh, not a problem at all, William. We’re going out tonight, so we won’t be the ones who have to put up with you lot,” Wentworth chuckled, clapping Bill on the shoulder. 

“I trust you boys will behave and not stay up too late?” Maggie added in, which made Bill snicker.

“Have you m-met your son? There’s n-no way we’re go-going to bed before da-dawn,” He stated with a smirk.

“Fair point. At least make sure you don’t wake up the entire neighbourhood in the process, alright?” Bill nodded and Maggie thanked him. They then briefly bid him farewell and began to make their departure. Bill continued down the hall, to where the rest of the Losers were gathered in the living room. 

“Hey Bill, what’s good?” He was greeted by Mike as he entered. He shrugged in response, and took in the sight before him. It was basically like their usual sleepovers.  
Sleeping bags strung everywhere, overnight bags tossed around the place. The only thing that was different was the 50 or so VHS tapes that were scattered over Eddie’s sleeping bag. What the hell? 

“My fellows! Our good ol’ chap, Benjamin is here and my parents have left! The fun is scheduled to start…now!” Came Richie’s chant as he practically pushed Ben into the room. Ben rolled his eyes, and dropped his stuff in the only empty spot in the room. ‘His stuff’ including an absolute crap load of snacks. Richie centred himself in the middle of everyone and laid out the agenda. 

The first thing Richie wanted them to do was choose a film, so they wouldn’t have to argue about it later. Bill knew he should have bet good money on Eddie getting his way. Stan basically predicted the future. 

“Okay, if you guys are going to watch Silence of the Lambs, I’m hiding in Richie’s room,” Eddie had made his opinions clear.

“Come on, Eds, don’t be such a pussy.” Richie batted his arm. 

“Me? A pussy? Are you kidding me? When we watched Child’s Play 2 last year, you screamed so much you lost your voice for the next three days, you fucktard.” Eddie snapped back, humourlessly. “I don’t want to have to sit through you screaming the whole time! Can’t we just watch ‘My Girl’ or something?”

“Why the fuck would we watch that? We always watch horror movies! Guys, help me out here!”

Mike was the first to speak. “You’re right, we do always watch horror films. Can’t we switch it up for once?” Richie looked shocked and utterly betrayed. The rest of the Losers all agreed with Mike and Richie was outvoted. 

“Fine! I don’t give a fuck. We can watch that sappy drama… on one condition.” Richie shot a concerning smirk around the room, causing Eddie to physically gulp. “We play Truth or Dare with no rules. Deal?” 

They had always played Truth or Dare with the rules that it had to be age appropriate and there was no punishment if you back out of a dare. Saying no rules was technically just giving Richie a shit tonne of power in the game. But the Losers all agreed anyway. 

 

They all messed around for a good three hours before actually beginning their slumber party routine. It was around 9 o’clock when they got to the first thing on the schedule. Just like they did every sleepover, it was time to call Beverly Marsh. Since it was about 6 o’clock in Portland, Richie decided that it was a good time to fling the phone at Ben’s head. Ben, having memorised the girl’s number, punched it into the keys and chucked the phone on speaker. It rung for a few seconds before a voice filled the air. 

“Hello?”

Ben was quick to respond. “Hello, may I-”

“Why, hello, Beverly Marshmallow! What happened to your voice? You sound so old!” But Richie was quicker.

“Richie! That’s her aunt!” Ben hissed at him and Richie slapped a hand to his mouth. “I’m so sorry about him. May we please speak to Beverly?” The woman obliged and soon the voice changed to one of familiarity. 

“Hey Losers, how’s it going?”

“BEVVIE!” Richie squealed childishly, which earnt him a shove in the face from Eddie. 

“Hi Bev,” Eddie then greeted, followed by Stan, Mike, Bill, and Ben. 

They spoke about good old nothings for an odd hour or so. The Losers kept insisting that Bill should talk to Bev alone. They probably thought that he still liked her.  
Honestly, she was only ever a crush, nothing more. Bill declined every time, and they just chatted as a group until Bev dismissed them saying that she had to go. 

Then they continued with the rest of their sleepover schedule after that. It mostly consisted of ordering a ridiculous amount of pizza, prank calls, a very messy food fight, a game of Truth or Dare which ended with a massive argument on how to pronounce the word ‘schedule’, and a pink-lemonade stain on the carpet that Richie would definitely be blamed for. 

It was around 12 o’clock when they finally started to settle down. Eddie and Stan were the only two who bothered putting their pyjamas on, and Richie was teasing them for it nonetheless. The Losers all sat on their sleeping bags in a dysfunctional circle around the mountain of opened snacks, as they prepared to watch the film. 

“I can’t believe we’re watching ‘My Girl’ at a sleepover! Bullshit!” Richie complained, multiple times throughout the movie. Although, there was no denying, he cried the most at Thomas J’s funeral. 

Bill was the last one to fall asleep. He always fell asleep last, and for good reason! He looked around at his sleeping friends. Ben was to his left and Mike was draped over the couch. Richie, as predicted, had ended up sharing Eddie’s sleeping bag, while Eddie’s head rested on Richie’s chest. And Stan? Stan was an angel when he slept. On Bill’s right, the noodle-haired boy rested, his pale blue pyjamas barely creased as he breathed gently. Bill was afraid to go to sleep. But being trapped in the silence of the empty house made it something he couldn’t avoid.

\--  
“Come on, Billy! Catch up!” Georgie clapped his hands excitedly as he chased after the small hand-crafted boat. 

“Georgie, wait!” Bill tried to scream, but something was holding him back. Tearing into his mind and telling him to stop. He watched in terror as Georgie neared dangerously close to a sewer drain. He listened in horror as a dreaded voice filled the air.

“You’ll float too.” IT chanted, watching Georgie with close eerie eyes. There was a brief moment of hesitation before an ear piecing scream drifted down the street in the courses of rivers of blood. Georgie’s blood. With one arm gripped in the clenches of his teeth, Pennywise dragged the remains of Georgie’s body through the open drain and let him drop. “He floats now.”

Bill shook his head and tried to cry out, unsuccessfully. Pennywise sneered and turned to him with cold yellow eyes. 

“If you come with us, you’ll float too.” With one bony skeletal finger, IT summoned Bill closer. Bill refused, watching as tears flowed from his eyes onto the hard gravel. 

“Yes, that’s a good boy.”  
Bill shot his eyes back to IT. Bill hadn’t moved. How did that make him a ‘good boy’? That’s when Bill saw that it wasn’t him that IT was talking to.

A familiar head of curly hair walked past Bill with slow controlled steps. He reached the drain in a matter of seconds, lowing himself to see into its depths.

“Stanley! NO!” Bill’s mind yearned for him to screech only to be silenced by his aching breath. 

“He floats too.” Bill watched in utmost despair and the inability to do anything, as Pennywise reached his long winding arm out, curled his white-gloved fingers around Stanley’s ankle and-  
\--

“Bill! Wake up! It’s just a dream!” 

Bill shot his eyes open, finding them sticky with tears, and looked around. No sewer, no Pennywise, no Georgie. Just Richie’s living room. 

“Are you okay? Oh my god, you scared the living hell out of me!” Came the voice of the angel known as Stanley. He was okay! He wasn’t brimming on the edge of an undeserved death by Pennywise.

“I – I – I –” Bill couldn’t speak. The words got lodged in his throat and his breathing became limited. He could feel the sweat dripping down his face, combining with the tears and making a slimy lubricant. He could feel his heart stutter in his chest, hammering against his ribcage, but choking him like it was in his throat. His lungs heaved and his face burned, and the tears still refused to cease. 

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re fine. I know exactly what you’re going through. The Pennywise dreams? Yeah, I have them too. You’re okay. He’s gone. You’re with us.” Before Bill could process, Stanley’s warm hands were encasing him in a tight embrace. He could hear his breathing wheeze like a squeaky toy, as Stan guided Bill to a sleeping position. From where Bill’s head now resided in Stan’s lap, he could hear Stan’s heart gently beating to a steady rhythm, like the beat of rain or a slow burning fire.

Bill fell back asleep listening to Stan’s heart, as Stan unknowingly stroked his sweat-dampened hair. He had no more nightmares that night, and woke up still in Stan’s arms the next morning.

Bill had known for a long while that he liked Stan. But that day…that day was the day he realised that he loved him.

...

Today was another one of those days. The rain tore down, ripping tiny currents through the streets. Bill still ventured out into the pouring splinters of cold water, still reminiscing his memories of his brother. Although this time, something was different. It had been almost a month since his revelation of his love for Stan, and ever since than he just hadn’t felt the same at these times. Of course, he still missed Georgie and wished on his life that he was still here, he just didn’t fear it as much anymore. 

The rain began to slow to a stop and Bill sat beside the sewer drain gazing up at the soft clouds. He reached a hand up to remove the hood of his raincoat, giving him better view of the watercolour sky. He wasn’t aware of the time passing as he gazed at the pictures in the clouds. He must’ve looked like an escapee from a mental institution or something, sitting beside a sewer drain, staring up at the sky. At least he wasn’t crying like usual. He remained like that, content in the tranquillity around him until he heard a voice he would never grow tired of. 

“Hey, Bill!” 

Bill stood up immediately and practically skipped over to the curly-haired boy. It was often that he would find Stanley out here. He tended to go out bird-watching on most days, and today was no exception. Bill liked to think that they had been spending a lot more time with each other since he found out that they both suffered nightmares of the same venom. 

There was one thing, however, Bill hadn’t yet done that he wished more than anything to do. Tell Stanley how he felt. There just never seemed to be a right moment.

Today, on the other hand, was different. Today, it was just the two of them. Today, was the day Bill Denbrough decided that he would tell Stanley Uris that he loved him.

“Bill? You okay? You kinda zoned out on me?” Came the honey-soaked voice of the boy before him. Bill shook himself back to reality and took in the sight. Stan’s hands were folded across him, clutching his notebook into his chest, as he cocked his head in confusion. 

“I’m f-f-f-fine,” Bill spat out, voice breaking into a thick stutter, unlike one he had had in a long while. 

“This morning was pretty dreary. Was it another Georgie day?” Stan offered a sad smile, and Bill just shrugged. Bill felt his eyes trail across Stan’s features memorising each aspect of the boy as he went. He couldn’t help but smile dopily, when he watched Stan’s smile curve into a pout, his eyes revealing a playful frown that could only be described as adorable.

Bill didn’t want to wait any longer. He wanted to blurt it out then and there.

“Sta-Stan? I ha-h-h-have someth-th-thing to t-tell you.” Bill found himself fiddling with the sleeves of his raincoat, as he spoke in a rattled voice. 

Stan shot him a hum of affirmation. 

“I’ve kn-kno-kn-known this for a whi-wh-while now bu-b-b-but I thought you sho-sh-shou-should know,” Bill breathed in a deep sigh, that shook his lungs in an unpleasant way. “St-Sta-St-Stan, I – I – I – I –”

“Bill? Are you okay? You haven’t stuttered this much in a long time.” Stan took a step closer, which in all honestly did not help the situation. 

Bill frowned in frustration. “I-I-I-I-I lo-l-l-l-lov-lo, shit, fuck.”

“It’s okay, take your time.” The fact that Stan was so calm only made Bill more annoyed at himself and his stupid stutter. 

“I lo-lov-lo-l-l-lo, ah fuck, I hate you!” Why in all seven layers of hell could he say that but not what was actually important?! 

“Oh, uh, nice to know?” Stan joked, raising a curious eyebrow at Bill’s sudden anger.

“No, n-no-not you. My st-st-stu-st-stutter!”

“I know, I know! I was just playing with you. Just, breathe. Calm down, and try again.” Stan coached, placing a reassuring hand on Bill’s arm.

“I lo-l-l-lo-l-l-l-” Bill, yet again unable to function properly, was a broken record. He huffed out another sigh before spotting Stan’s notebook. “Pa-pap-pa-paper? Pl-ple-please?”

Stan obliged, skimming past the notes and diagrams to an empty page and handing him a pen.

On the page held open to him, Bill wrote his thoughts in the simplest way possible.

~ Stanley Uris, I love you. ~

He spun the notebook around and watched as Stan’s eyes traced down to the page. Bill could see the confusion in his eyes, so he turned it back around and added another few lines. 

~ Stanley Uris, I love you. As more than just a friend. I don’t care if you don’t feel the same I just thought you should know. ~

Bill turned the page back around only to swing it right back and add a final statement.

~ Stanley Uris, I love you. As more than just a friend. I don’t care if you don’t feel the same I just thought you should know.  
And fuck my stutter. ~

Stanley read over it. Multiple times. It was as if he couldn’t believe what he were reading. When his eyes finally met Bill’s, Stan looked puzzled.

Bill could feel tears begin to well in his eyes, although he didn’t have the faintest idea why.

“You- you love me?” Stan’s voice was laced with disbelief. 

Bill looked to his feet, willing the tears to go away. 

“I didn’t think anyone could love me…” The statement was almost inaudible, but it was there. It was there, and it was revealing Stan’s insecurities.

Bill looked back up, ignoring his red, puffy eyes, and focused on the boy before him. “St-St-Stan, th-that’s imp-p-possible.”

As if suddenly realising what was going on, Stan looked panicked as he fumbled for his words. Slight tears springing to his eyes for unknown reasons. “I- I think I like you too…as more than a friend.” Without hesitation, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Bill’s neck. This hug was not like their usual ones. This one was made of something else entirely. Bill cautiously snaked his arms around Stanley in return, hugging him close, and feeling Stan’s warm breath on his ear. Stan’s head lay to rest on Bill’s shoulder and his body wracked slightly with small sobs. 

When they finally broke apart, Stan found himself gazing into Bill’s eyes with a bashful smile. “I love you, Bill.”

“I-I-I-I lo-lov-lo- oh, fuck my stutter,” Bill groaned in annoyance yet again.

“I think you’re stutter is cute…” Stan admitted quietly, adjusting his gaze to meet the floor. Bill raised an eyebrow in skepticism, before breaking out into girlish laughter. Stan joined in moments later. They remained with each other beside that drain for hell knows how long that day, and Bill wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Today was just one of those days.


End file.
